Enduring Fascination
by VampedVixen
Summary: Forbidden fruit seeks dangerous good-looking vamp.


**Author Notes: **Well, this little piece of erotic nightmare came from being pissed off today that my god damn fuc... eer, okay I'll stop now before I get the killing tendencies back again, ARGH!, well he said I was a failure at writing. Well, I'm just proving him wrong, hopefully, tell me what you think. Oh, and this is also kind of based on something that happened in my own life. The title comes from Godsmacks' song "Vampires" and if you're a Buffy fan I desperately urge you to listen to this song, it is just.. AMAZING!  
**Discliamer: **Do you really need to ask? Joss is King of Buffdonia, we all must bow to him. Hell, if he gave us all that Spke-Buffy psudeo-relationship kiss and sexual tension then he's a God! We all must worship him!  
**Feedback: **Feedback people! Remember: Always give your fanfic writer feedback, be kind rewind, and never take candy from strangers. Maybe a sequel is in order? Whatta you think?  
**Summary: **Forbidden fruit seeks dangerous good-looking vamp.   
  


Enduring Fascination  
Janet Jongebloed  


  
She spoke in riddles and danced in swirls. Everybody was apart from her world, and yet everyone was a toy in it. Something to play with, manipulate, destroy. But she was human, and therefore had limits. Limits can be so bothersome.  
  
The music was pouring from the singer's voice and it filtered through the nightclub. It touched upon every human's ears and it moved them, some more than most. Her most of all. She was the one, the one they loved to watch. The femme fatale who walked between light and dark and loved every moment of it. She treasured her darkness and held it close to her chest. It was the only thing that was real anymore, the only thing that mattered.   
  
Another song started and another victim was chosen, a fair-haired innocent looking boy, man by physical age, but boy in everything else. Inexperienced, and too young to ride this wild woman. She grabbed his neck and thrust her flesh into his thighs, flesh to flesh, fear to corruption, it was perfect, and it was sane to her. Everyone looked on as she gave a total stranger a lap dance. Some regarded her as courageous, taking what she wanted and not giving anything back. Some regarded her as strong, to overpower such a man. And some regarded her as dangerous, and tried to keep their boyfriends away. The boy liked the attention, but knew when the song was over, that it too was over. He was nothing, nothing at all, to this seductress.   
  
She swooshed along the dance floor in between songs. The black pleather pants embraced her thighs, perfect fit, her favorite pair. They made her feel invincible. They made her feel alive. It was amazing how much of a thrill wearing leather gave her. The top was not much more than a bra. Some stared, but she liked the attention.   
  
Sipping on a champagne glass before the song began, she felt her senses cool, and then warm, she was alive tonight, it felt so great. She was alive and in power and nothing could take it away from her.  
  
Making her way back to the crowded mosh pit like atmosphere was troublesome, but it was worth it to be in the center of attention. Yet no one really paid attention to her, no one knew her. She was a drifter, never taking anything with her as she moved from town to town. Never meeting anyone worth sticking around for, she trafficked the Californian state. And she doubted she ever would.   
  
The predator stepped onto the dance floor and choose her next victim. And spotted the target easily. He was leaning against the wall in the darkness, its seemed to be a part of him. They had that much in common.   
  
He was watching her. Most likely he had all night. She smiled at him, coyly, inviting him in. Her hips swayed to the beat, like they were a natural part of the song. It was her song. They were playing her song. All the songs belonged to her. She wiggled an alluring pointer finger, calling him to her.   
  
He looked amazing as he neared her, she thought. A man, not a boy. A lean basketball type, though she doubted he played basketball. He wore a black leather duster, so he shared more with her than she thought. The whole leather thing. Still, she would use him, and she would make him pay. Pay for thinking that he was good enough to be with her, dance with her, touch her. She would make him pay. No one deserved her, they were all too normal for her, too mundane. She wanted adventure, danger, and if there was no outlet through these people, she would make one.   
  
He grabbed her by the waist, rough, as she began to dance.   
  
"Well, now," She said, "Aren't you a tough guy."  
  
"'Been watchin' you." His accented voice immodestly betrayed his intent.  
  
"Have you now," She asked, rubbing her hand against his platinum hair.  
  
His hand reached for her curves. "You think they don't know what you are? They do."  
  
"Oh? And what am I?"  
  
"A predator, same as me." He grinned, like he was stronger, like he could kill her with his bare hands. This was what she wanted, something dangerous, someone dangerous.  
  
She didn't believe him though, and thought she ought to feed the fire a little before it went out, before he disappointed the adventurous edge of her psyche. "You're a predator, huh?" She turned around and began rubbing her back against his lower stomach. "What do you hunt?"  
  
"Whatever I want."  
  
"I'm sure you've killed, hunted oh so many," She turned around to face him once more. Her tone was sarcastic. How could he wish to fulfil her fantasies of a dark knight of death. Yes, she thought, that was what she wanted. No normal humans, only death. Because only death could bring life. Only life could bring love.   
  
"More than you. See, I'm not pretendin'." He whispered into her ear, "Not like you."   
  
"You think I'm pretending," She was shocked, angered, hurt, but she didn't let it show. Nothing was shown anymore, it was all hidden in the darkness.   
  
"You want to pretend you're something you're not: Stong." He paused and looked at her as she continued to saunter to the boisterous music. "You're nothing, Mate. Nothing."  
  
"I could be something,"  
  
"You've been looking for that something. Found it yet?"  
  
"Maybe," She whispered to him. Hoping that in him she had.   
  
He continued dancing with her, watching the human. She was so young to him. So innocent. She thought she was something powerful, a force to be reckoned with. She had forgotten only one thing: There's always someone higher up on the food chain.   
  
She licked his neck and tried to seduce him, but he was only pretending, same as she was. Hell, how much of a hell raiser could she be if she didn't even have fangs? There were worlds left undiscovered by her youthful innocence. Most would say she was a demon, evil, not an innocent, but naiveté was in the eye of the predator. What she thought was dangerous was mild to a demon who had once left a bloody path trailing behind wherever he went.  
  
He started grinning wildly, and she took notice, and thought she had finally gotten her target locked and loaded. Her inner mind hoped he was falling for her tricks, because this one, this man had started to make her feel. Feel, she shuddered, she hadn't allowed herself to feel anything but lust and ravenousness, but now she felt like she would soon start begging if he didn't let her get to him. Never had she let one get away, and she wasn't about to start now.   
  
What fascinated her to the prey she never knew, but once she was locked into a victim she would not let them leave without images of her haunting them. If she didn't carry out her task, would it eat her up inside? It really felt like it would. He had to be hers; there was no other way to sleep at night. When all was done, he had to be hers.   
  
He grinned at her, "Sorry... You're really cute too." It was only said in passing, mocking the dead. A negligent parting, it didn't affect him. It was just something she had to learn. Never play with fire if you don't want to be incinerated.   
  
His fangs bit into her, veins ripped apart, blood escaped to the surface, as the demon lapped it up wildly. She didn't struggle against him at first, wondering if this was just his was of feeding some dark erotic fantasy of his, but soon she started to fight against the killer, the vampire who had been feeding but not in an erotic way. This was revenge, revenge for what she had done. Her last fleeting thought was that maybe this hadn't been a good idea. How did it come to be this way, she wondered with her last breath, how did the hunter always gets captured by the prey, did it end that way? Sure it had been fun; it was the adventure that she had wanted. It was everything that she had wanted, and yet now she was dead. Passion and lust had led to death and downfall.   
  
The lone figure left the mosh pit, black duster trailing behind him. The rest of the dancers closed in and covered the girl who was now lying dead on the cold floor. No one noticed, or maybe just no one cared. She would just move onto another place now, like she always did. The hunter and the hunter, predator and prey, which was which, and where did one end and the other begin.   



End file.
